Read Without Options Online

Authors: Trevor Scott

Tags: #Thrillers, #Technological, #Espionage, #Fiction

Without Options (18 page)

BOOK: Without Options
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“I think we should change our methods a little,” Viktor said. “Maybe let a few others take some turns. How else will they get the experience?”

Trying not to look concerned, Zukov ran this information through his mind. It was never a good sign when the boss wanted others to take a turn. Either he had lost confidence in him or he was ready to replace him. That would mean a long trip back to Moscow, or worse. He would end up in the Spree River just like those he’d put there. No identification. No identity. He would die a nobody.

“I can handle it, Viktor.”

“I know, Zuk. It’s not that.” His boss hesitated, a reassuring expression on his complex face. “I need you to find the American. Take a more active role.”

Zukov let out a subdued sigh. “I understand. But what’s so important about this one man?” He had asked this before, and never got a good answer. Didn’t expect one now.

Viktor Pushkin shrugged and put his hands together. “It’s personal.”

That he did understand. “All right. I’ll get on it first thing in the morning. Anything else?”

“You’ve been leaving behind the identification on the last couple of people,” Viktor said. “Any reason for this?”

Yeah, there was a reason. But nothing his boss would find appropriate. “The Turk was a mistake,” he lied. “And the man tonight I couldn’t linger. It was a busy street.”

“Okay. It doesn’t have anything to do with this Polizei investigator, Gustav Vogler?”

Zukov thought for a second too long. “All right. You caught me.”

“You’re playing with the man,” Viktor said.

Shrugging slightly, Zukov said, “Maybe a little.”

Viktor raised his praying hands to his lips. “No more, Zuk. It’s not about you. It’s not about this Polizei man. There’s more at stake here.”

He sure as hell knew that. He’d been in on the plan from the beginning, helping develop the strategy. “I know,” he finally said. “I understand.”

“Get some sleep and get on the American in the morning.”

Zukov took that as a sign to get up. This is really what he wanted all along. A challenge. Rewards never came without great sacrifice. He went back into the break room and got his cane, before heading out into the cool night air to his car. He’d find the American. And when he did, well, things would go a little different from last time.


Closing in on midnight and Gustav’s cell phone shook him from his sound sleep. He swept his hand in the darkness and knocked the phone to the floor. Scrambling onto the low-pile carpet with his hand, he finally reached the phone and flipped it open.

“Ja. This better be damn good,” he sniped.

“Sir, this is Andreas.”

“I know that. Your name came up on my cell,” he muttered more calmly. “What’s up, my friend?”

“Another body.”

Jesus. What was going on in his city? “Details.”

“A thirty-two-year-old man found stabbed to death in Mitte. On Unter Den Linden, a few blocks from the Brandenburg Gate.”

“That’s brash,” Gustav said.

“There’s more, sir. He’s a Pole. He was on that train from Warsaw tonight.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, sir. I’m at the scene now. I have his passport in hand, with the RFID sticker we placed there. Also has a ticket stub from that train.”

“Damn it. We missed him.”

“There was no way of knowing.”

“Hold the scene. I’m on my way.”

Andreas gave his boss the address.

“How’d you get there so soon?”

“I live just five blocks from here,” Andreas explained.

The better question was why his assistant had been called first. The call should have come in to Gustav.

“I’m on my way,” Gustav repeated and then hung up.

He slammed his phone shut vehemently. This was getting ridiculous, he thought as he got out of bed and slipped into the clothes he’d hastily thrown off to have sex with Ilka. Just when they’d gotten a possible break in the case, another setback. And a brazen attack near Berlin’s landmark. This man had to be stopped. Before leaving, he gazed down at Ilka. She had not even woken with the phone or the talking. He was jealous she could sleep that soundly. If only. . . He shook his head and reluctantly left her there, knowing she was still naked under his sheets.

19

Andre had given Jake and Alexandra the guest room, but Jake had found it hard to sleep. He’d stayed up late on his computer searching all the data from Interpol, hoping to find some direction. While he did so, he also ran through his mind every case he’d been a part of over the past couple of decades. The list was long, but only a dozen or so stuck out as problematic.

Morning now, a fresh perspective, Jake stood in front of the window watching the horses graze in the small pasture. It would have been nice to go for a ride. He had done that before while staying with Andre. His horses were half Arabian and half Quarter horse. And he rode with Western saddles. They had gone to a nearby river and followed a trail up toward the Alps. It wasn’t like riding in Montana, but the countryside was beautiful and any day in the saddle or on a river was better than sitting in a car.

He glanced back at Alexandra still asleep, covered with only a thin white sheet. What was he doing? Had enough time passed by for him to be making love with another woman? Even Andre, about as sexually liberal as they come, seemed somewhat disappointed with Jake. Yet, he couldn’t let what others thought dictate who he was or what his future could be. Only he could decide that. Besides, he had come close to death too many times in the past few days to worry about proper periods of mourning. Life could be shortened at any moment. He had to live for now.

He slipped off his underwear and slid into bed, finding her warm and naked beneath the covers. Smiling, she guided him into her.

A while later, while Alexandra showered, Jake got back onto his computer and ran the intel through his fresh mind. He knew what he had to do, but he didn’t want to involve her in his plan. This was something personal. Something only he could accomplish. Perhaps it had been a mistake taking her along to begin with, even though she’d wanted to be with him. Wanted to help. But at what cost? He’d almost gotten her killed. Got her involved in an Interpol Blue Notice, which wasn’t too serious, but could be a problem with her employer. Still, she had issues to deal with on her own back in Germany.

She came out toweling off her naked body. God, she was gorgeous. He wanted to ravage her again. Yet, he still struggled with his feelings. Perhaps he already felt dead and needed to experience resurgent life.

“What?” she asked, shifting the towel to her long, think hair and rolling it up into a beehive.

“Just observing God’s perfection.”

She turned to him and slowly stepped into a thong. “I didn’t take you for a believer, Jake.”

“I’ve had my questions. For instance, how could a just God take someone like Anna but leave evil despots on Earth?”

She seemed to be considering that as she strapped her perfectly rounded breasts into a matching black lace bra. “Maybe that’s why He put us here.”

“To vanquish evil?”

“Yes.”

He left his computer and went to her, drawing her into his arms and taking in her fresh odor. “So, when you called to Him this morning, what were you asking for?”

She laughed. “My prayers were answered, Jake. Twice.”

They kissed gently and he ran his hand against her cheek. “I’m glad you came with me.”

“I’m glad you held out.”

“No, I meant on this trip.”

“Oh, well you actually came with me. I drove.”

She had a point.

“What are you trying to tell me, Jake?”

He pulled away from her and closed the screen on his laptop. “We need to split up,” he said abruptly.

“I don’t think so.” She put on some comfortable brown slacks and tightened a thin belt around her small waist.

“I can’t do this with you, Alexandra.”

“Why?” She looked disturbed now. With a hurried motion, she slung a black sweater over her head and flung it down to her hips.

“I have to go some places and do some things that only I can do,” he said.

Her eyes intensified. “You mean like what happened with the Serb? Or maybe the Iranian?”

They’d never discussed in great detail what actually happened to the Serb. Jake had given him a chance. More than the man had given Jake at the Austrian gasthaus.

“The Serb shouldn’t have tried to kill me. I told you it was self defense.” Well, he could have left the man to bleed out in the cold mountain air. But would that have been more humane?

She sat onto the bed, dejected.

He sat onto the bed next to her, his hand on hers. “What’s really the matter, Alexandra?”

Shrugging, she said, “I like hanging out with you. There’s never a dull moment.”

“Sure. Stay with me and get shot at daily. Maybe I should sell tickets to thrill seekers.”

“That’s not fair,” she yelled softly.

“I didn’t mean it that way. I’m sorry. I just don’t want you getting hurt.”

“That’s my job, Jake.” She had quickly fluctuated from subdued to pissed off to calm.

“But, like I said, I might have to do some things counter to your Service’s mandate.”

She put her hand onto his now and squeezed down. “You don’t think I’ve had to skirt a few issues of legality over the years? That’s what happens when you go undercover. You know that. Sometimes you have to look away for fear of what you might see.”

God, he knew that too well. But he couldn’t bring her along with him. Not now. “You have to give me two days. Three tops. Then we’ll meet and compare notes.”

She was confused. “What do I do in the meantime? Go bake some cookies?” Her German accent really sprouted with those words.

He got up and went to his backpack, retrieving a cell phone and handing it to her. “I picked this up at my bank in Luxembourg. It’s a secure cell. I have its brother. It’s non-traceable. We’ll stay in contact with these. You go back to your apartment.”

“You forget one thing. There’s a Blue Notice out on me.”

“Andre can lift that and expunge it from the system.”

“Where will you go?”

“It’s best if you don’t know.”

She accepted the phone.

“Remember this number.” He gave her the number for his secure cell phone. “Once you’ve called me make sure you delete the call record. Just in case someone gets their hands on the phone. But even if they did, they wouldn’t be able to track me down.”

“Where do we meet?”

He explained his plan for additional contacts in person, and how he might need her access to her BND database. “But don’t compromise your position there.”

Jake thanked his host for his hospitality and he and Alexandra left the French countryside, heading back into Lyon. As Jake kept track of signs to his destination, he thought about leaving Alexandra. He definitely had mixed feelings about splitting up, even though he knew it was the right thing to do. She shouldn’t know where he was going.

When Alexandra reached the downtown area in the center of the city, Jake had her pull over to the curb when he saw a line of taxis in front of a row of hotels.

“This is good,” he said, gathering his things.

“Are you sure, Jake?” she asked. “Let me drive you to wherever you need to go. I want to help.”

They’d already been over this a dozen times that morning and on the drive into Lyon.

He shook his head. “I need you to reconcile with your Service. The BND could be helpful down the road. I need you, Alexandra. Still need your help. But behind the scene.” He grabbed his backpack from the back seat, closed the door, and then leaned back into the front seat.

Alexandra had an expression of longing lingering on her face. Jake pulled in to her and she met him halfway, kissing him on the lips and grasping his arm. “Be careful, Jake.”

A heavy sigh, Jake said, “I’ll try.”

He pulled away and her hand reluctantly let go. The door closed, Jake walked off to the front taxi, not looking back. As he settled into the taxi, he watched Alexandra drive by them, her hand wiping away a tear from her cheek. Damn it. He didn’t want to get too close to her. Not now. Not so soon after. . .

“Where to, sir?” the driver asked in French.

“Station de train centrale,” Jake answered with a German accent.

The taxi driver looked at Jake in the rearview mirror. In German the man said, “That’s five blocks from here.”

Jake also switched to German. “I have a bad knee. Please drive. I have a train to catch.”

“Yes, sir.”

The driver pulled away and Jake kept his eyes open to anyone following them. He wasn’t entirely certain that Andre wouldn’t have someone following him. Regardless of the man’s level of help and his friendship over the years, Jake still knew that Andre was dedicated to Interpol.

Jake got out at the central train station, paid the taxi driver with cash, slung his backpack over his shoulders, and limped off through the front doors. The driver would remember the limp and not much else.

Inside, Jake stopped for a moment to view the huge board that showed all the trains coming and going through France. Lyon was a major station. From there he could go south to Marseille or Provence and on to Italy, to the southwest to Spain, to the north to Paris and continue on to England across the Chunnel, or the east to Switzerland. He could also head north and then east into Germany.

He walked to a stand that held route pamphlets and turned to view one, his gaze also scanning the terminal for anyone interested in him. But everyone seemed to be going about their own business. His training would take hold of him now. Instincts and logic. Rational yet randomly driven. Nothing that would make his movements understandable or predictable. His eyes glanced up to the large clock above the destination board. Ten minutes to ten. This morning he would be a German. But not a German. A German speaker. For in his pocket he held his Austrian passport, a diplomatic passport that would allow him to travel with his guns. A persona he’d created four years ago after receiving the Great Golden Decoration with Star of Austria, the highest honor bestowed upon any civilian in that country. The Federal President of Austria had awarded him personally in a private ceremony, after Jake helped bring down a terrorist cell in that country. It was one of Jake’s major accomplishments in Europe during his tenure with the Agency. However, the Federal President didn’t even know the name on Jake’s diplomatic passport. The passport would stand the scrutiny of local police, border agents and customs officials. It was a real Austrian diplomatic passport. But it had never been entered into any database in that country or others—Jake’s reason for using it in the first place.

BOOK: Without Options
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